


Mr. Brotzman and Me, and Michael Makes Three! (or Adventures in Polyamory; Holistic Twink Edition)

by DontOffendTheBees



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Established Relationship, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Humor, Idiots in Love, Kissing, LGBTQ Jewish Character(s), M/M, Polyamory, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-08-20 00:38:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16545437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontOffendTheBees/pseuds/DontOffendTheBees
Summary: A holistic detective, a washed-up punk frontman, and an ex-government nerd get in a relationship. Believe it or not, not all that follows is as preposterous or unbelievable as it rightly ought to be.Just a little place to keep my fun (and maybe occasionally angsty) things I write for Tentmanly (that a thing? It is now.) as I go along. Rating may be subject to change.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellllloooo it's me doing yet more procrastinating from my big WIPS to bring you... whatever the fuck this is.
> 
> ...Look, I ship the fuck out of them, okay?

“Hey, Mike- is this yours?”

 

 _"Todd!”_ Mike hisses, grabbing the webcam from his hand. It’s kinda old-school looking, one of those little round things with hook legs from the days when people didn’t just build that shit in. One of those things with cables for unsuspecting boyfriends to trip on when they’re trailing across the kitchen floor for some reason. “You’re ruining my set-up, man!”

 

Todd sticks his hands up in mock surrender, frowning. “Uh… set up for _what?"_

 

Mike’s eyes light up, in that way they do when he’s about to explain something _super_ nerdy. The Conspiracy Glint, as they call it. Usually what follows is something to do with either government cover-ups or aliens. For Todd’s sake, because Dirk isn’t here to tag in, he hopes it’s the former. “Follow me.”

 

A part of Todd kind of wants to roll his eyes and walk away before he gets dragged into whatever tinfoil hat craziness the guy’s obsessing over today. But Mike is already towing him toward the office supply closet by the hand, so they’ve kind of reached the point of no return.

 

Anyway, he’s cute when he’s being a geek.

 

Mike glances side to side as they come to the door, like a spy in a movie checking they’re not being tailed. An old movie, with no sound and no choice but to act up to the cameras as much as possible. “Go on, quick!” he whispers, cracking open the door and ushering Todd in.

 

Sighing, Todd squeezes himself through the crack. If nothing else, going into closets with Mike or Dirk usually leads to making out. Even if he has to listen to a lot of weird nerdy bullshit before they get there. “Okay, whatever, let’s get this over w- _hat_ the fu-?!”

 

Mike slips in behind him, closing the door with another unsubtle sweep of the hall. “Pretty cool, right?”

 

“Jesus, what are you _doing_ in here?” says Todd, running his eyes over the wall of about six screens of varying sizes perched on the shelves, between shoved aside (yet, in true Mike fashion, neatly stacked) boxes of office supplies. The fact that Mike’s apparently hoarded every computer monitor, tablet and… what looks like a Nintendo Switch he can get his hands on is one thing. The fact that they’re all showing different angles of the _kitchen_ is… weirder, somehow.

 

“Uncovering the truth,” says Mike seriously, waving the webcam. “I’m gonna get him this time, I know it!”

 

“Okay, man, you’re doing that Dirk thing- can you maybe catch me up on some stuff?”

 

“I was trying to do a cool reveal, but sure, I guess,” Mike mutters, rolling his eyes and dropping the webcam into an… empty _Froot Loops_ box.

 

Todd raises his eyebrow. “Seriously?”

 

“I _know_ he’s eating it, Todd!” Mike hisses, picking up the box and shaking it in his face. “And this time I’m gonna _prove_ it!”

 

“Why bother?” says Todd, lightly pushing the box out of his eyeline. “I mean, it’s pretty obvious that he is. What more do you need?”

 

“I _need_ some evidence he can’t deny! Something concrete, every time I confront him he plays innocent, he’s all-” he widens his eyes, and does a British accent that’s arguably worse than Todd’s-  _"'_ _Oh, I’d never! What’s a Hoopty Frood?’”_

 

“...You ever do that voice for Dirk?”

 

“What? N-no, d’you think he’d be into it?”

 

“...Yeah. Go nuts, he’ll love it.”

 

Mike narrows his eyes, and drops it- and even though Todd knows he really isn’t gullible enough to actually follow through, the idea that he might is pretty fucking funny. “Okay, whatever. Point is, I’m gonna get him this time- _if_ he doesn’t stand in the _blind spot,"_  he says, tapping the one blank screen- which seems to be Farah’s Kindle- pointedly. “I’m gonna have to sneak in and fix that…”

 

“Maybe hide it better this time.”

 

Even in the dim glow of the monitor screens, he can see Mike’s cheeks turning pink. _"_ _Shut up,_ it’s a _really_ short cable, okay?”

 

Snorting, Todd shrugs and crosses his arms. “Yeah, sure, man. Y’know, I’m pretty sure Dirk went out to the store.”

 

Mike brightens, clutching the box to his chest. “Really? How long ago? What for? Do I have time to go fix-?”

 

But Todd pulls it, gently but firmly, out of his hands and puts it back down on Mike’s makeshift surveillance desk (huh. So that’s where the ironing board went. Dirk had been complaining for _days_ ) before he can finish. “Or you could do that later.”

 

“What, why would I-?”

 

Todd kisses the rest of the question from his lips, swallowing Mike’s startled squeak along with it.

 

It only lasts a moment, tame, kind of a conversation starter, before he breaks away to meet Mike’s dazed brown eyes in the gloom. Blinking back at him, face flushed and eyes wide as they reflect pinpricks of muted light, Mike’s lips stay parted in breathless fluster.

 

 _"..._ _Oh,”_ he breathes, voice cracking. “Jesus, o-okay, yeah. Later.”

 

And then he’s diving back for more, hands sliding round to cup Todd’s neck, fingers toying with the hair at his nape, mouth moulding itself to Todd’s firmly and stealing the breath right out of his lungs. Todd gives in to the kiss straight away, sighing into Mike’s mouth as his own yields to its motions, hands fisting in the front of his boyfriend’s dorky graphic tee. He’s dressed down today, no button-up, no tie, just some vaguely red galaxy-patterned monstrosity, with a cat in shades covering most of the front. The kind of thing his _other_ boyfriend would be simultaneously disgusted and delighted by, style sense screaming _no_ while his cat-loving hindbrain whispers _yes._ _Jesus,_ they’re idiots. What the fuck. Why is Todd into these weirdos?

 

Mike nips at his lower lip, giggles breathily into his mouth, and buries his fingers in Todd’s hair to pull him closer.

 

 _Oh,_ Todd thinks, melting like butter. _Yeah, that’s why._

 

For a while Todd just loses himself to the easy push and pull, arching into Mike’s body as his hands break free of his hair to roam, breath catching as he feels Mike’s fingers dancing around at the hem of his shirt, slipping under to trace circles on his lower back. It’s not heavy, there’s not exactly _intent,_ it just kinda… is. He doesn’t feel like Mike’s racing towards anything, and he’s pretty happy not to either; feels like they can just relax into this, enjoy it, laze about in the warmth as they aimlessly explore each other with their hands and mouths, eyes closed against the subdued glow of the monitor screens-

 

“Mmf-Todd, Todd, wait!”

 

Todd grumbles in complaint as Mike’s lips and hands disappear, leaving him cold and alone. He opens his eyes blearily, glowering pathetically at Mike’s hunched back below him. “Mike, what-?”

 

_“Look!”_

 

Todd follows his pointing finger to Mike’s laptop, and blinks. “Huh.”

 

On the screen, a small and slightly pixelated Dirk roots around in the kitchen cabinets, emerging with a triumphant smile and a box of _Froot Loops_ in hand.

 

Mike, smacking screen capture a few times, grins. _“Gotcha.”_

 

Todd watches, amused, as Dirk scoops a handful of the sugary cereal from the box directly into his mouth. “Shit. You actually caught him in the act.”

 

“He probably thought we were out when he got back,” Mike says, glancing at Todd and blushing prettily. “So, uh. Guess it’s a good thing you distracted me.”

 

Mike smiles, pushing his flyaway wave back away from his bashful face. Todd gulps.

 

“Hey, uh… anytime.”

 

They stare at each other a minute, like nerds. Todd gets kinda pulled out of the moment by the sight of a large eye looming up over Mike’s shoulder. “Uh, Mike…?”

 

Mike turns around, and as they watch Dirk’s curious face leaning closer and closer to the camera they catch the exact moment realisation dawns on it.

 

_“Michael!”_

 

Todd smirks. “You really need to get better at hiding those.”

 

“Shut _up,_ I won.”

 

“Whatever, man.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come TALK TO ME ABOUT MY B O Y S PLEASE <333


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more fluuuuuuuuuuuuuuuffffffffff i am happy for our holistic b o y s today <33333333333

Dirk wakes to sun pouring through the window, a jolly noonday beam warming him almost as much as the body in his arms. He smiles, eyes half open as he snuggles down into it fondly, squeezing it tight.

 

When his elbow bends and his knuckles brush the mattress, he realises he's actually one body short of what he expected to find.

 

Frowning, he cracks one eye open, and peers down at the dark mess of hair. Todd. That's one boyfriend, then- now where on earth had the other one got to...?

 

_"-Better stop and take stock while I'm standing here stuck on the steps of the pa-lace-"_

 

Ah, mystery solved.

 

Smiling, Dirk nestles into Todd again and listens to the voice as it floats softly from the kitchen. He can hear the tinny drone of iPod speakers beneath Michael's uneven vocal stylings, and the clatter of assorted crockery and cutlery as he prepares something. Something that smells _delicious_.

 

Delicious enough to tempt him out of bed...?

 

He looks down at Todd. Still dozing, warm and soft and _far_ more adorable than he'd probably like to be. Looks up, towards food and tea and Michael probably shuffling his slippered feet on the kitchen tile as he cooks.

 

Now this... _this_ is a pickle and a half.

 

He fidgets, torn. It's not the first time he's been in this situation, of course. Michael's always been an early riser, always getting his morning routines out of the way before Dirk and Todd have even stirred. But usually by this point he's back in the room, perched on the edge of the mattress reading something or other on his laptop as he waits for them to wake up. Ready to whack them over the heads with a pillow if they don't.

 

But now he's in the kitchen, cooking something delicious and most likely looking _adorable_ while he does so, and Dirk can't even _see_ it.

 

...Well. When you put it like that, the answer seems rather obvious.

 

He lifts his arm from over Todd, replacing it with the top of the rumpled duvet like Inigo Jones trying to make off with an intricately booby-trapped artifact or whatnot, and shuffles back across the mattress. To his satisfaction (and mild surprise) he manages to extract himself from the bed without waking Todd, and spares another moment to gaze at his dozing face before he drags himself away from the cosy blanket nest. _Sorry, Todd_ , he thinks, silently vowing to return soon with coffee. _But Michael comes with food._

 

Padding towards the kitchen, he shudders in the slight chill away from the streaming sunlight. It's a fairly reasonable time of year, spring _springing_ into full force and shaking off the last grey doldrums of winter, but the temperature in the shade is a tad on the brisk side when one is dressed in nought but boxer briefs and a well-loved t-shirt. Perhaps leaving his lovely warm little Todd cocoon was a bit hasty...

 

That train of thought lasts about as long as it takes to reach the kitchen door and see the scene awaiting inside.

 

He peeks around the doorframe, heart softening at the sight of Michael's bare feet dancing some kind of clumsy shuffle on the kitchen floor. He follows them up, past legs lightly dusted with dark hair and eventually cut by off by a pair of boxers- the ones with the little green alien faces on them. He knows those ones well; along with the Mexican Funeral shirt he'd been gifted by Todd some months ago, they'd become a staple item of sleepwear. They're not Dirk's favourite- they're too shapeless to do his lovely bum any favours- but how comfortable he looks in them more than makes up for it. Above the aforementioned shirt, Michael's hair is still sleep-ruffled and soft like baby duck feathers, the thick-framed glasses he's so embarrassed of perched atop his long nose and steaming up in the heat from a plate fresh out of the-

 

"Michael," Dirk blurts, stepping out from hiding. "Are you making a full English breakfast in the _microwave_?"

 

Michael jumps with an alarmed squawk, almost upsetting a plate of sausages. “Jeez!” he yelps, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose fretfully. “Man, you freaked me out, quit sneaking up on me like that!”

 

“I wasn’t sneaking- you just sang over me,” Dirk quips, strolling over to give Michael a kiss good morning on his ruffled head. “And good thing, too- or I would have never witnessed this _atrocity.”_

 

Michael, blushing adorably, seems to be making some forlorn attempt to hide the plate of sausages behind his back. “Uh... Goddammit. Look, man, you know that stove hates me.”

 

“You and me both,” Dirk commiserates, eyeing the suspicious appliance over Michael’s shoulder. “Which begs the question; why not wait for Todd to wake up? Or wake him up yourself? Or have something a little less dangerous to prepare, perhaps. Also, why are you making so much? And why haven’t you eaten any yet? And aren’t sausages one of those things you and Todd aren’t supposed to eat for reasons I don’t understand but entirely support? This is rather a puzzle for nine in the morning, Michael.”

 

“It’s eleven thirty.”

 

“Answering the one question I did _not_ ask,” Dirk hums, stealing a slice of toast from another of the plates scattered haphazardly around the microwave.

 

Michael, fidgeting on the spot, pushes the plate towards him. “They’re, uh, vegan. The sausages. And I wanted to make them, before you guys woke up and- and bring them to you in bed, so we could all… eat together? Just. Y’know, just… ‘cause.”

 

He looks so _embarrassed._ And all because he tried to do something so lovely. Dirk swallows his mouthful of toast (perfectly buttered; one of Mike’s many hidden talents) and puts the rest down in favour of taking the sausage plate and putting that aside, too. “Michael,” he says, catching those now free hands before they can fidget or fall to military rest position. He smiles softly, cocking his head. _“Mikey?”_

 

Michael looks up at that, face utterly, _delightfully_ flushed.

 

Dirk leans down, and gives his parted lips a gentle peck. “I’m so very moved by the gesture,” he whispers, reaching up to run his fingers through the soft hair at Michael’s nape. “That I won’t say another word about this _blasphemous_ preparation.”

 

Michael snorts, returning the kiss briefly and tangling his fingers in Dirk’s. “Please. You would’ve done the same.”

 

“ _No,_ actually- I would’ve badgered Todd until _he_ made it.”

 

“Doesn’t that kinda defeat the purpose of the whole ‘breakfast in bed’ thing?”

 

“Very true; but if the alternative is hauling him out of bed with a fire alarm, I think I know which he’d prefer.”

 

Laughing brightly over the final bars of the song, Michael briefly becomes the music in the room; high and breathless, cracking all over the place in that curious way of his that means no laugh is ever quite the same as the last, always a beautifully unique and uniquely beautiful new sound every time. Just like the man himself; beautiful, unique, and _full_ of surprises.

 

 _Oh, Michael,_ he muses, stealing that lovely laugh from his lips along with another kiss for luck. _You can microwave anything you want to, forever._

  
  
  


 

 

 

 

 _...Except tea. There_ are _limits._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (note: I'm trying to include more references to Todd and/or Mike being Jewish in fics, but I am not Jewish myself and so might not always get it right- if you spot inaccuracies please do let me know, I'll be happy to fix it, especially in future fics! And if you have any Jewish headcanons about them you'd like to see in fics please send those my way too ^^ (not every fic I write is gonna feature Jewish Todd or Mike because tbh I'm a lazy person by nature but I promise to try harder and contribute some where I can <333))


End file.
